which these unfortunate beings cannot form the slightest conception. But either of these kinds of language, or their combination, answers for the deaf-mute the same purpose that our speech answers for us, and in the same way, only in an inferior degree, owing to the comparative imperfection of the instrumentality—although the question may be seriously raised, whether it be not nearly or quite as effective a means of expression and aid of thought as is a rude and rudimentary spoken language like the Chinese. If, then, thought and language are identical, thought and pantomime are not less so; if we think words, the mute must think finger-twists: and who will venture seriously to maintain a proposition so manifestly preposterous?
But if we must thus deny that, in any admissible sense of the expression, language is thought, it still remains for us to inquire whether thought is not co-extensive with and dependent upon language; whether we can think otherwise than in and by words. The claim is sometimes roundly made, that "general ideas and words are inseparable; that the one cannot exist without the other;" that, "without words, not even such simple ideas as white or black can for a moment be realized." Let us examine for a moment this last assertion, and see whether it be well founded. Suppose, for instance, that there occurred but a single white substance, namely snow, in the nature by which we are surrounded: it is both possible and altogether likely that, while we had a name for the substance, we should have none for the colour: and yet, we should not therefore any the less apprehend that colour, as distinct from those of other objects; even as we now apprehend a host of shades of blue, green, red, purple, for which we possess no specific appellations. We conceive of them, we are able to recognize them at sight, but their practical value is not sufficient to lead us to name them separately. If, then, on going southward, we made acquaintance with cotton, we should not fail to notice and fully to realize its accordance with snow in the quality of whiteness, even though we had no name for the quality. On the contrary, we should certainly proceed to call cotton "snowy," for the precise reason that we did notice the correspondence
